


Cersei's Lessons

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crack Fic, F/M, Jon and Sansa have been pretending they are still siblings, Post-Canon, Sansa learned to seduce her brother from Cersei, because they're too dumb to confront feelings, just an excuse to write shitty seduction, seriously, until Sansa had enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: Jon frowned, unable to stop the agitated sigh that escaped him. "What do you want, Sansa?"She moved in front of him again and looked at him for a long moment, her eyes wide and dark, her mouth parting where he could see the peek of her pink tongue as it swiped a teasing trail across her full lips."The same thing as you," she whispered, her eyes fixed on his own mouth for what felt like hours before she raised her dilated gaze to meet his own.





	Cersei's Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> This is ...I don't even know lol. I just needed to get something down to get me back into writing as RL is a bitch right now.

Although he felt better scrubbing at the dirt that had acquired from the travel, the warm water did little else to soothe his worries. 

He had known that just because the battle against the Night King had been won, didn't mean that he would have rest. But traveling the weary North, listening to the wishes of the Lords he visited had drained him. He looked forward to having a night to himself with a hot bath and a good night's sleep. He would speak with Sansa in the morning, even if he longed to see her already.

As he finished dressing, the door opened, he felt himself tense, immediately fearing that the serving girl had disregarded his words of not needing anything and had brought him food, thus ruining his desire to just go straight to bed. But as he turned to kindly dismiss her, the words died in his throat as he found only Sansa, her hands behind her back as she gently pressed the door closed behind her.

"We should talk," she greeted, stalking towards him.

His eyes drifted down to her bare feet, and he could see the soft skin of her legs, his gaze following the path until the hem of her cloak, blocked his view.

"Aye, we should," he replied, forcing himself to look up onto her face again. 

"The journey has worn you out" Sansa stated simply, perching herself onto the corner of his desk. Jon shrugged in answer, swallowing as the cloak hitched itself higher, revealing more bare skin.

Was she even wearing a shift? 

"Let me take care of you."

She hopped off the desk, sauntering towards him and Jon instantly took a step back, afraid that he might do something stupid like reach for her, tug her close. And then he would bury his nose in her hair and inhale the rose scent of her that would make him groan with need. He would do something dangerously stupid like kiss her and Sansa didn't need yet another man giving her unwanted attention.

His eyes followed her suspiciously as she circled behind him. When her hands lightly stroked his side as she passed, he jerked, stumbling away from her.

"Sansa!"

"Sit," she commanded him, pulling his chair out towards him. And, as always, his body obeyed and he found himself falling backwards into his chair.

She beamed before she disappeared around him once more, her hands settling on his shoulders.

Jon frowned, unable to stop the agitated sigh that escaped him. "What do you want, Sansa?"

She moved in front of him again and looked at him for a long moment, her eyes wide and dark, her mouth parting where he could see the peek of her pink tongue as it swiped a teasing trail across her full lips.

"The same thing as you," she whispered, her eyes fixed on his own mouth for what felt like hours before she raised her dilated gaze to meet his own. 

He had imagined her lips a thousand times, shamefully so. But he had always though they would be soft like her. But this was harsh and demanding as she took what she wanted. Although Jon supposed taking was the wrong word to use when he has never given anything so freely.

Her body slid forward, her arms looping around his neck and her mouth pressing harder against his as she moved into his lap. A moan rumbled in his throat, swallowed against her possessive lips and it all just felt so good, so so good. His hands splayed across her back, keeping her in place as she straddled him.

And then, reality hit like lightening and he wrenched his mouth away with a gasp.

"I lay with Daenerys before," he blurted before he flushed at his admission.

Truly, he thought everyone had figured out what he had done before the war and though he had never told Sansa, he didn't doubt that she had at least suspected.

But the words had tumbled out, for he had been so afraid of his feelings for his cousin, scared of taking this too far that he had needed to say something to stop it going too far.

Yet Sansa seemed to just stare at him for a few seconds, tilting her head to the side. And then, her mouth curled slightly, as though he had made some great jape. And it appeared he had.

"And I thought it was because you still thought of me as a sister," she commented. And well, Jon had made an enormous effort to keep referring to her as such, trying to distance themselves and force the feelings he had away with shame. It hadn't worked though when she could render him a speechless, helpless mess with just a simple glance.

Wasting no time, she curled a hand behind his neck to pull him back to her sweet mouth and he knew that she was not going to back down at all.

He should stop her, he should stop this divine madness before he gave his all to her - mind, body and soul.

"You'll not lie with her again," she murmured against his mouth before her tongue licked a possessive stripe along the column of his throat. Jon tilted his back submissively, his eyes fluttering closed as her breath ghosted across his pulse point.

"I didn't in the capital," he managed to reply breathlessly.

"You won't ever, regardless of where you are," she corrected, possessively. 

Another tug to his hair and she was angling his head up again, taking everything he offered freely. As his hands settled on her thighs, the cloak shifted, the red hair caught in the candlelight as she leaned back to expose herself further. His previous question was answered then - she wasn't wearing anything but her cloak.

A groan, pathetic to his own ears, tumbled out of him but Sansa's smile reeked with victory. Her fingers ran across the back of his hand, light and full of promise.

Her name escaped him with a whine, the warning tone losing its meaning when his breath hitched at her touch and his throat bobbed with a thick swallow as she brought his hand to her mouth. Her hooded eyes locked onto his face as she wrapped her lips around his fingers and slowly slid her tongue along the digits with slow, sensual strokes.

The final straw of futile resistance snapped at the sight and suddenly, he was the one in charge, pushing her back until she lay flat across his desk. Letters, ink-pots and books scattered to the floor, the surface replaced with Sansa's red hair spreading like enchanting flames across the wood.

But Jon could not spend much time admiring the sight as he instead leaned down to take her mouth for himself this time.

She sighed softly into his kiss, her fingers clutching at his hair and keeping him in place - as if he could ever have thought about tearing himself from her now. Already, he's pressing himself against her, gripping her hips to pull her flush against him as his mouth moves possessively against hers. And Sansa, the sweet minx that she is, was withdrawing from his desperate kisses and smiling as he eagerly chased after them, nipping his bottom lip with her teeth. It was enough to make Jon almost finish from the frantic need flooding his blood.

"Tell me what you want Jon," she whispered huskily against his jaw, nuzzling her nose against his cheek like a wolf marking their mate. His fingers dug hard into her hips as he choked out a lust-filled pant.

"You," he murmured, slanting his face to attempt to kiss her again. But Sansa grinned, angling herself away from him.

"You can have me," she assured him, her hand settling against his jerkin, resting against his beating heart. But as Jon moved again, she tilted her head back again and his lips pressed against the column of her throat instead. "When you marry me."

"I'll marry you right now," he growled, his lips closing around her pulse point. Her breath hitched as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive skin, her hands sliding over his shoulders and pulling him closer.

"Mmm," she hummed distractedly, her fingers trailing a feather light path down his back. "And you'll be mine."

"I'm already yours," he mumbled, taking advantage of her distraction to claim her mouth again. Sansa let him kiss her for a few beautiful seconds before she returned to tormenting him and twisted away again.

"You'll be a Stark," she whispered and Jon hummed, a warmth spreading through him at the thought, as sweet as though he already had her wrapped around him. Sansa fluttered her eyelashes, the innocence of the gesture contrasting with her victorious smile as she realised she had him completely. She pushed herself up, her arms circling around his neck to steady herself as she pressed her lips to his ear.

"And I'll give you children named Stark."

"Sansa," he groaned, burying his nose helplessly into her neck. It shouldn't have such an affect on him, such simple words from her sinful lips. But it is all he has ever wanted, and Sansa was willingly giving it to him.

"Tell her," Sansa growled, pushing him back by the shoulders and fixing him with a hard stare that frightened and aroused him in equal measure. "You will tell her that you want me and you will not be swayed."

Jon grinned, smug. "You're a possessive little she-wolf, aren't you?"

Sansa's leg hooked around his waist, her foot delicately rubbing against his ass and pushing him closer, and Jon could barely bite back his groan as he felt her heat through the clothes between them, his body rutting forward, desperate to claim her.

"Marry me and I'll show you how much of a wolf I can be!"

***

Jon groaned softly as she nipped at his lips, her fingers already tugging at the laces of his tunic, desperate to get at the skin underneath. Jon's own fingers gripped her hips, the touch burning her, making her step closer to him and seek his warmth, his body.

"Sansa," he moaned, twisting her around effortlessly and swiftly pressing her down into the mattress.

Her giggle warmed his neck as she buried her nose against his ear, her arms locked tight around his neck as she pulled him into another kiss. For a moment, he lost himself to her soft lips but as his fingers unconsciously gripped at her skirts, he pulled back, realising that perhaps he had gotten a bit ahead of himself. 

Sansa ginned up at him, her eyes sparkling with mirth and lust, her cheeks flushed a sinful scarlet that only made him more aroused. She was always beautiful, he thought, feeling his own soft smile come so easily as he held her gaze. But there was something even more radiant about her like this, vulnerable and strong all at once.

He moved off the bed and Sansa's smile fell for the split second before he reached his hand out towards her. 

"I fear I was getting a little ahead of myself, my love."

Sansa smiled shyly, letting him pull her against his hard chest. His fingers reached for the laces at the front of her dress, pressing another kiss to her lips as he did so. As her bodice loosened, Sansa took a step back.

Her teeth bit into her lip shyly and she glanced at him through her hair as she slowly pushed the sleeves down her arms. Jon swallowed as he watched her skirts pool at her feet and she delicately stepped out of them.

She moved backwards, sitting primly on the end of the bed, the movement causing her shift to rise to mid-thigh and Jon felt his tongue swipe across his lips without his control, imaging himself between her legs at last.

"Do you need help?" she asked after a few seconds passed and he hadn't moved.

"No," he replied quickly, eagerly tugging his tunic over his head and fumbling with the laces of his breeches in his haste, the sound of Sansa's giggles only making him more distracted.

"Its rude to laugh at your husband," he growled at her, kicking his breeches to the side and climbing onto the bed, stalking towards her.

Sansa's smirk remained in place as she deliberately moved out of his reach, until the headboard ceased her retreat. Jon placed his hands on the bed, either side of her hips, leaned in for a kiss only for Sansa to angle her head away. Hooking a leg over his hip, she pushed herself away from the board and moved him onto his back. Settling across his stomach, she grinned down at him.

Her eyes remained on his but he could feel her hand pressing against his stomach, the muscles twitching with anticipation. As her fingers ran across the band of his small clothes, he couldn't stop his hips raising up towards her, begging.

"How long have you wanted this Jon?" she purred, leaning down to nip at his ear.

"Too long," he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought for some form of control, fearing he was going to spill in his small clothes like a green boy before she had even touched him.

“You’re all mine now,” she whispered, rocking herself against his hardened cock, listening to his desperate groans. She pulled his hand down to rest on her leg, pulled it along the sinful silk of her thigh towards where she was throbbing for him.

Jon’s eyes snapped open as he realised she wasn’t wearing small clothes, his fingers brushing against the wry curls guarding her sex. Sansa felt his throat bob against her neck and couldn’t help the victorious smirk from claiming her lips.

“And I’m all yours.”

Jon’s needy groan echoed around them and from her smile he knew that Sansa basked in his desperation. 

He had made many mistakes and commited a hundred sins but as Sansa grew wet with his touch, he couldn't think of this as one of them.

***

Sansa awoke with the sun, the dull sounds of life stirring from the courtyard. Jon's arm was slung lazily over her hip and Sansa shivered from the delightful memories of what his hands had done to her last night.

She rolled over, smiling softly at Jon's peaceful face.

Her love for Jon was strong but she had grown tired of wondering, tired of lords asking for her hand and she had decided to secure her place in Winterfell and Jon's affections.

Cersei had been right she thought, a woman's best weapon was between her legs.


End file.
